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SPEECH 



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HOUSE OF REPIiESENTATn^S 



FEBRUARY 12, 1913 



7Si3o^ll77i 



WASHINGTON 
1913 




'Gil 5 



D. OF 0. 

JUL U 1515 






SPEECH 



OF 



HON. JAMES M. G 11 A II A M 



ABEAIIAit LINCOLN. 

Mr. (JRAIIAM. 'Mi: Speaker, in the growth and development 
Oi a nation it would be dllticult to overestimate the value of 
great examples, of high ideals, and cue of the compensating 
benefils we derived from the Civil War is the long list of heroic 
{•.ctions of magiiauimous and noble deeds performed by men on 
either side. 

Never before in the history of the world did the vanquished 
exhibit greater valor, and ]iever did the victor in a great war 
treat the vanquished with such splendid generosity as in that 
titanic struggle. No Eoman triumph marked the final victory. 
Napoleon's standards waved at one time or another from the 
citadels of almost every capital in continental Europe. The 
Germans took literal possession of conquered Paris, but Grant 
turned from Richmond at its very gate. No humiliating terms 
were imposed at the surrender of the great Confederate com- 
mander. He received the courteous and chivalrlc treatment 
which bravo men always accord to brave men. Perhaps the 
greatest moment in the life of the silent commander was when 
asked at Appomattox what disposition was to be made of the 
horses of the Confederate cavalry, which were mostly owned 
by the men who rode them, and he replied in his quiet way, 
" Let them keep them ; they'll need them for the spring i>low- 
ing." 

Deeds of personal heroism were so numerous that it would be 

invidious to mention any pa^-ticular ones. There were, Indeed, 

giants in those days. That awful struggle was in truth a 

struggle of Titans. Hut out of it all one great gaunt figure 

TSlSj— 11770 n 



rises and stands above tlie others like a cedar of Lebanon, 
towering beyond liis fellows in massive grandeur, unique, alone, 
for in the wliole field of profane history there is neither proto- 
type nor parallel for Abraham Lincoln. 

I was not always an admirer of President Lincoln. When a 
boy the first book I read about the Civil War was Pollard's 
Lost Cause, which was published in Kichmoud before the heat 
of the conflict had time to cool. 

But later in life a number of circumstances conspired to 
attract me to a study of the career of this wonderful man, this 
first American, as Lowell called him. 

For many years I have lived within a stone's throw of his 
old home in Springfield. He once represented in Congress the 
district I now have the honor to represent, and the fourteenth of 
April, the anniversary of his martyrdom, reminds me of the 
too frequent recurrence of my ov^^u birthday anniversary. 

I have loved to talk of him with the few men still left in 
Springfield who knew him and admired him long before the 
general public appreciated him. I have marveled at a career 
which far outdistances romance. Many a time have I traveled 
with him in spirit over that long and weary journey from the 
Kentucky cabin to the White House. I have tried to under- 
stand him, to estimate his character, only with this result, that 
as my own vision broadened I saw in him new strength, new 
wisdom, new self-control, new elements of greatness, till he 
became to me, as Stanton said of him, " the most perfect ruler 
of men the world had ever seen," and I am forced to the con- 
clusion that in the providence of God he was destined to be 
the savior of the Republic, the preserver of government of the 
people, by the ])eop]e, for tlie people. [Applause.] 

Having said this much, you are not surprised to hear me say 
that I regard Abraham Lincoln as one of the world's greatest 
men. 

What is the real test of greatness? How is greatness to be 
weighed or measured? By what method is it to be determined? 

If a man's greatness is to be n^asured by the service he 
rendered his fellow men, then indeed was Lincoln groat. 
78485—11776 



If wo accept tli? criterion Ibat be that rulctii his own spirit 
is greater th-.in he thai taliodi a city, still Vv-as Lincoln a great 
man. 

If the ability to recognize ami understand right principles 
and to stand for them and stand by them, in gloom and defeat 
as v/ell as in sunshine and victory, is a sign of greatness, still 
was Lincoln groat. 

If absolute and abiding faitli in the ultimate triumph of that 
which is right because it is right is a sign of greatness, he 
had it. 

If the broadest charily, the greatest magnanimity, tbe most 
complete absence of the spirit of resentment is an e\ idento of 
greatness, then was Lincoln superlatively great. 

If a deep, strong, boundless, active, and abiding sympathy 
for all those who labor and are heavy laden is an evidence of 
greatness, he had it in a degree approached by few other human 
beings. 

Unbounded courage, unwavering determination, unlimited ca- 
pacity to work and to suffer are essentials of greatness. Lincoln 
had them all in a remarkable degree. 

Nor were these admirable qualities marred by any vice or 
weakness, barring a supposed weakness resulting from his 
excessive human sympathy. 

He was absolutely unselfish; he had in him no clement of 
cupidity ; he was incapable of the feeling of mere revenge, 
and his greatest ambition was to be right and to be of service 
to his country and to humanity. 

Who can be named who had all these qualities in such 
degree as this rail maker of the Sangamon? If we are to 
measure greatness by the power to accomplish, by the conquest 
of obstacles, by difficulties overcome, whom can you name fit 
to be compared with this untaught and imaided chiid of the 
forest and the prairie? 

G'he so-called '"ladder of fame" furnishes us with at least 
a figure of speecli by which we are Avont to measure and com- 
pare the achievements of the great. Let me use that rhetorical 
figure for the purpose of a brief comparison between Lincoln 
7S4S5— 11776 



ami some of the great ones of the earth whose names fill the 
pa^ps of the histories and whose fame comes ringing clown the 
ages. 

I will not attempt more than mere suggestion, but I invite 
yuu at your leisure to go into the details and ascertain what 
each did for himself and what others did for him; where each 
began his individual career of accomplishment and where he 
ended it; in other words, how far he traveled, through his own 
efforts, on this strenuous and toilsome journey up fame's ladder. 

Let me illustrate what I mean by citing just a few of the 
names of the world's great which at once occur to anyone — 
Alexander, Cajsar, Charlemagne, Napoleon. 

Alexander was the son of a great monarch and heir to a 
kingdom. He had all the advantages position could give. He 
had as his private tutor the philosopher Aristotle, one of the 
greatest intellects the world has known. At the age of 20 his 
father's death placed him on the throne of Macedou. Thus, 
wilhout any special personal effort, he found himself, before 
he reached his majority, far up fame's ladder. 

Ctcsar was of patriciait birth and had both wealth and 
family influence behind him. He enjoyed the benefit of the 
best schools, and official preferment awaited his desire. His 
family connection and social position enabled him to begin 
life well up fame's ladder. 

Cliarlomagne was a worthy desccndent of the famous Charles 
Martel, a King of Franco. He was, in truth, a great empire 
builder, but he. too, was born well up the ladder of fame. 

And Napoleon, that wonderful man of destiny, was the son 
of a general, a graduate of one of Ihe greatest military schools 
of the time. Others preparwl him for the opportunity he seized 
so promptly and utilized so completely. 

Nor is our own land without illustrations. Washington had 
all thf advantages that wealth and station could give, and 
Jefferson added to these advantages a thorough college training. 

So tliat all these, through inherited advantage, began their 
life work well up fame's ladder. But what of Lincoln? What 
ad\aiitage of birth or wealth or environment had he? Abso- 
7S4.S.J— 11770 



lutely none. lie was born on tlie frontier in a loi^ cabin 1-1 foot 
square. His parents were poor, shiftless, and anibitionless, 
and the father tried hard to repress his son's desire for knowl- 
edge. He lived till manhood amid the poorest and most de- 
pressing .surroundiug.s, away from schools and schoolmasters, 
enjoying only eight meager months of school opportunity in his 
entire life. 

He did not start in the race halfway up fame's ladder, not 
even within sight of it. He had to clear away the brush and 
traverse the swamps and overcome innumerable difiicuUies to 
get within view of it; and these dhiiculties he overcame, not 
because of his surroundings, but in spite of them, till he finally 
planted his feet on the lowest round and, without influence or 
assistance, began the toilsome ascent. 

And who will say that any of those favored sons of forluuo 
climbed higher than he? 

If my theory be sound, if wo are to measure the greatness of 
the man by the distance covered from start to finish in life's 
journey, whom can j-ou recall who began so low, and, of his 
own strength, rose as high as Abraham Lincoln? 

The opinion is (juite too prevalent that Lincoln's greatness 
developed after his election to the Presidency. That is a mis- 
take. The truth is he was always great, but it was, of course, 
after his election that the people were convinced of his great- 
ness. 

While he was fond of ofBce and was somewhat persistent in 
seeking it, he never sacrificed, or even modified, his opinions 
in order to gain it. 

He was a real leader of public opinion; he never changed 
his views to be in accord with that opinion. When the pub- 
lic differed from him he set to work to win the public to his 
view. 

As early as 1S37 he filed a written protest against slavery in 
the Illinois Legislature, of which he was then a member, being 
joined by but one other member. Nothing could at that time 
be more unpopular, as he well knew. 
78485— H77G 



8 

Just prior to tho debate witli Douglas, wbon lie prepared the 
Springfield speech in which he used the illustration that " a house 
divided against itself can not stand " he submitted it to a number 
of his personal and political friends and admirers. They were 
almost stunned at his rashness in using this biblical quotation. 
They felt that it would kill him politically, but in spite of pro- 
test, regardless of results, he used it, and time has surely vindi- 
cated his sagacity and his courage. • The men who knew him in 
those days say that it was habitual with him to draw out the 
views of others on political subjects while he withheld his 
own. Even in those days he had supreme confidence in himself. 
But it was not mere pride of opinion that made him so self- 
confident, for he did not hesitate to adopt the views of others 
when it seemed wise to do so. 

His supremo self-confidcace and his intense patriotism are 
evidenced by his choice of a Cabinet. A smaller or less patriotic 
man would have hesitated to choose as his adviser one who 
almost held him in contempt or one who was generally sup- 
posed to so far outclass him as to cast him altogether in the 
shade. 

I never heard of anyone who so grievously offended Lincoln 
as did Mr. Stanton, but that did not prevent him from making 
Stanton Secretary of War. 

Few other men could have borne the conduct of Secretary 
Chase as Lincoln did under intolerable provocation, but he real- 
ized Chase's value to the country and made all else subservient 
to that ; and later, in spite of his disloj^alty to his chief, Lincoln 
appointed him to the highest place within his gift — Chief Jus- 
tice of the Suprouie Court. He placed at the head of his Cabi- 
net his chief rival for the presidential nomination, Mr. Seward, 
and quietly tolerated Seward's assumption of superiority, confi- 
dent that time would determine their relative positions, as 
indeed it soon did to the Secretary's complete discomfiture. Lin- 
coln felt intuitively that he had nothing to fear from comparison 
with any man. He was, therefore, entirely devoid of envy or 
jealousy, first, because of this supreme and abiding confidence 
78485— 1177G 



9 

in liimself, and, second, because he was ready at any time to 
adopt the views of others if they seemed sounder than his 
own. 

The breadth and depth of Llucohi's charity passes ordinary 
comprehension. The sight of misery in man or beast touched 
him profoundly. 

I believe he spoke with al)so]ute sincerity and out of the full- 
ness of his great heart when in his second inaugural he urged 
Congress to proceed " with malice toward none, with charily for 
all," 

His patience, his justice, his honesty, his sincerity conquered 
everyone who really knew him. Douglas, his rival iu love, in 
the law, and in politics, pronounced him the honestest man 
he ever knew. Wendell Phillips, who bitterly assailed him be- 
cause he was not an abolitionist, finally declared that he was 
" God given, God led, and God sustained." Seward, who at first 
thought lightly of him, lived to refer to him as "a man of des- 
tiny with character made and molded by divine power to save 
a nation," and Stanton, whose treatment of him when they 
first met was almost contemptuous, truly said, as the gentle 
spirit left the body, " Now he belongs to the ages." The rail 
splitter, the flatboat hand, had conquered them all, and the con- 
quest was complete and enduring. [Applause.] 

Our country has been abundantly blest in the fact that it owes 
everything to the common man, nothing to aristocracy or royalty. 
What an array of names — Columbus, Washington, Franklin, 
Jefferson, Jackson, Lincoln— all springing from the common peo- 
ple, but none of them quite so near the common clay as this 
child of the frontier, this— 

Klndly-earncst, brave, foreseeing man. 
Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, 
Nev/ birtli of our new soil, this first American. 

Truly does the jwet say he was new birth of our new soil. 
Generations separated him from the ways and the amenities of 
78485— 117TG 



10 

cultiva((Hl .'■■ociely. lie was so closa to nature lliat, as anotiier 

pool well says of liim : 

The color of tlie groiuifl v\as in him — tlio rod ( arth ; 

Tlio ian,<; and odor of the primal things ; 

The roclitudc and patience of the rocks ; 

The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn ; 

The courase of the hird that dares the sea ; 

The justice of the rain that loves all leaves; 

The pity of the snow that hides all scars; 

The loving kindness of the wayside well ; 

The tolerance and equity of light that gives as fiToly to 

The shrinking weed as to the great oak flaring in the wind — ■ 

To the grave's low mound as to the Matterlioru 

That shoulders out the sky. 

S! * * « * * * 

And when the step of Earthquake shook the house, 
Wrenciiiug the rafters from their ancient hold, 
He held the ridgepole up and spiked again 
The rafters of the Ilome. lie held his place — ■ 
Held the long purpose like a growing tree — ■ 
Held on through hlame and faltered not at praise. 
And when ho fell in whirlwind, he went down 
As when a kingly cedar green with houghs 
Goes down with a great shout upon the hill, 
And leaves a lonesome place against the sky. 

Abi-abam Lincoln was the very incarnation of tlie spirit of 
democracy, of the rule of the eommou people. Ilis thoughts 
were their thoughts, their joys were his joys, and their sorrows 
were his, too. His sad, deep-furrowed face was so marked with 
melancholy that he seemed to bear all the burdens of his people. 

What a man, and what a career ! Just look for a moment 
with the eyes of your imagination and behold this awkward, 
barefoot, backwoods boy at ten trying to do a man's part in the 
woods with his ax ; living in a forest hut entirely open on one side ; 
at night dragging his tired frame to his attic nest of leaves by 
climbing on pegs driven into the logs, to find himself ere morn- 
ing sleeping under a coverlet of snow ; walking miles to borrow 
a book and lying prone on the floor to read it by the light of 
the blazing pine knots; wading Avaist deep through the wintry 
waters of a creek to rescue a worthless dog; guiding a flatboat 
down the Mississippi; making rails to fence the little farm on 
the Sangamon for his father and stepmother before leaving 
them to make his own way in the world, before starting out at 
twenty-two on the quest for the road lending to that figurative 
7S4S5— 1177G 



11 

ladder on wliich he was destined to climb so liigb. Again see 
him start from Springfield on a flatboat trip to Now Orleans; 
see him find a way to extricate the stranded boat when older 
and more experienced men fail, just as later on, in affairs of 
greater moment, he always found a way; see him as grocer's 
clerk treating all with rigid, scrupulous honesty, walking three 
miles before breakfast to bring to a customer the modicum of 
tea which the accidental use of a wrong weight deprived her 
of the evening before; see him postmaster, with the mail in his 
hat, and see him laying away at the end of his term the very 
pennies which belonged to the Government, to be produced years 
afterwards when called on for a settlement. Step by step see 
him progress on the toilsome way, now storekeeper, now sur- 
vej'or, soldier, politician, and lawyer, but ever and always faith- 
ful student, good citizen, and honest man. [Applause.] 

Then see hun arrive in Springfield at the age of twenty-eight, 
bringing with him little credit, and less money, and riding a 
borrowed horse. See him gradually rise, gaining steadily in 
public estimation. See him in the State legislature and in Con- 
gress, and when the question of slavery extension becomes acute 
see him challenge for a joint discussion his opponent for sena- 
torial honors, the ablest debater of his day, Stephen A. Douglas, 
the Little Giant of the Prairie State. The whole civilized world 
knows the result of that debate. 

Like a skillful general Lincoln so directed the course of the 
contest that he lost a skirmish in order to win a battle. lie was 
beaten for the Seuatorship only to gain the Presidency. 

On May 18, ISCO, he was nominated by the national convention 
of his party at Chicago, and duly elected in November. On the 
11th of the following February he departed from his Springfield 
home never to return alive. 

I can see in imagination the parting scene. In a pouring rain 

he stood bareheaded on the coach platform at the old ^Yabash 

depot and bade good-by to his friends and neighbors. Listen to 

him : 

My friends, no ono not iu my sitnntion can appreciate my feeling 
of sadness at this parting. To this place and the kindness of these 
people I owe everything. Ilcre I have lived a quarter of a century, and 
78485—11776 



12 

liavo pass"fl from a vouns man to nn old man. Hero my childivu were 
born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knov/ing when or whether 
over I maj- return, with a task before me greater than that which 
rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of that Divine Iteing 
who ever attended him I can not succeed. With that as.sistance I can 
not fail. Trusting in Ilim who can go with me and remain v,-ith yon 
.".nd be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet 
be well. To His caro commending you, as I hope in your praters you 
will commend mc, I bid you an affectionate farewell. 

[Applause.] 

How touching, how sincere, bow full of failh in Goa. And 

tlie language itself — how rhythmic, how direct, how simple it is. 

Where did this man, who scarcely entered the schoolhouse and 

knew not the college or the university, get this magnificent, 

this perfect command of language? How and where and when 

did he master that elusive thing called stj-le so thoroughly that 

some of his letters and speeches adorn the walls of great 

institutions of learning as specimens of perfect English? Let 

me read to you his letter to Mrs. Bixley, which both graces and 

adorns a wall of Oxford University as a specimen of perfect 

composition : 

Dear Madam : I have been shown in the files of the War Department 
a statement of the adjutant general of Massachusetts that you are the 
mother of Ave sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I 
feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should 
attempt to beguile you from a loss so overwhelming, but I can not re- 
frain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the 
thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray our heavenly Father 
may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the 
cherished memory of the loved and lost and the solemn pride that must 
be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice on the altar of freedom. 

[Applause.] 

His Gettysburg address is concedetl to be the best short 
speech in the language, but short as it is and excellent as it is, 
I shall not now ask you to listen to it. Indeed, were I to in- 
dulge in quoting specimens of his eloquence, I should find no 
reasonable stopping place. I can not, liowever, resist the im- 
pulse to quote the prophecy which concludes his first inaugural : 

I am loath to close. Wo arc not enemies, but friends. We must not 
be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it mvist not break our 
bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every 
battle field and jiatriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all 
over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when 
again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature, 

[A]iplause.] 
78485—11770 



13 

And may I not also recite the lij-mu witli Avliich ho closes liis 

second iuangural? — 

With malice toward none, with charity for all; with firmness in the 
right, as God gives us to sec the right, let us strive on to finish the work 
we are in ; to bind up the Nation's wounds ; to care for him who shall 
have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan- — to do all 
things which may achieve and cherish a just and a lasting peace among 
ourselves and with all nations. 

[Applause.] 

What rhythm, what majesty, what patriotism ! 

If we did not know that his spare moments from boyhood up 
were given to the study of the Bible and to the companionsiiip 
of iEsop and Bunyan and Defoe and Burns and Shakespeare, 
we might well exclaim as did the doctors and the scribes of old 
concerning Him who spake as m.an never spake, " AVhence hath 
this man letters, having never learned?" But we know that 
his mastery of his native tongue, the only one he knew, did not 
come unsought. It was acquired by persistent and resolute 
effort, and was tiuged and tempered by the tenderness of a 
nature tilled with love for God and man and country. It re- 
flected his patience, his fortitude, his fidelity, his absolute fair- 
ness and sense of justice, as well as his courage, sincerity, 
and resolution. In short, with him, as vcith every master of dic- 
tion, the style bespoke the man. 

Almost forty-seven years have come and gone since the fateful 
night when the hand of a poor deluded lunatic, without a mo- 
ment's notice or a word of warning, struck him down. What a 
shock he ga^e the world and what a cruel wound he thus inflicted 
on the torn and bleeding Southland ! By that blow he struck 
down the only man who had the strength and the will to stay 
the ruthless hands of those greedy and unscrupulous adventurers 
who, at the close of the war, promptlj' proceeded to plunder the 
stricken South. I give it as the opinion of his lifelong friends 
in Spriugfield that Lincoln never lost his love and sympathy 
for his native Southland, and that had he lived he would never 
have permitted the reign of robbery and ruin which that fair 
land experienced in reconstruction days. The hand, the only 
hand, which had the strength to save them was paralyzed in 
death by one v.iio vainly imagined he was aiding their cause. 
78485—11776 



1-1 

As for Lincoln, it was far boyond tlie poor power of tlic as- 
sassin to rob liim of one tittle of his fame. Indeed, bo added 
the one tiling needed, if anything wore needed, to enshrine his 
nicnnory forever in the hearts of the American people, and that 
was the martyr's crown. And for this he chose, most oppor- 
tunely, the moment when his victim had reached the summit, 
nay, the verj' zenith of his fame. 

The war was practically over. The dove of peace ho\ored 
over tlie laud. The Union was saved. Government of the peo- 
ple, bj' the people, and fur the people had not perished from the 
earth. The ship of state was safe at anchor. The shackles 
•were struck from the limbs of four million slaves. And the peo- 
ple gave Lincoln credit for it all. The world was filled with the 
sound of his praises. His feet were ou the topmost round of 
fame's ladder. Millions of his countrymen would cheerfully 
have laid down their lives to save his life. There was little 
glory left for him to gain, and then, lest he trip and stumble, 
fate closed and sealed the splendid record. 

With what dramatic force Walt Whitman tells the pathetic 

story : 

O Captain ! my Captain ! our fearful trip is won. 
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won. 
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting. 
But Oh heart ! heart ! heart ! 
Oh the bleeding drops of rod. 

Where on the deck my Captain lies, 
Fallen cold and dead. 

O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hoar the liells ; 
Itise up — for you the flas is flung — for, you the huglo thrills, 
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths — for you the shore's acrowding, 
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; 
Here Captain ! dear father ! 
This arm beneath your head ! 

It is some dream that on the deck 
You've fallen cold and dead. 

My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still. 
Mif father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will. 
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, 
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with ol'ject won .' 
Exult, Oh, shores, and ring, Oh, bells ! 
But I, with mournful tread. 
Walk the deck my Captain lies 
Fallen cold and dead. 

784S5— 1177G 



15 

In tlio very liej-df.y of bis fame he foil at the post of duty ; aud 
so we sliall always tliiuk of bim as be was at bis best, not a 
single shadow, not a single blur, not a single flaw in the picture. 

As the years file slowly past, as we get further and further 
away from his time and see him in clearer and truer perspec- 
tive, his splendid moral and intellectual pi'oportious, bis patience, 
his fidelity, bis sense of justice, bis foresight, bis charity, his 
patriotism — in a word his greatness — become more and more 
apparent. 

In a spirit of patriotic devotion, imbued with a feeling of 
profound gratitude for the blessing of a reunited country under 
the old. flag, let us reverently bless God that He vouchsafed us 
such a captain to direct the ship of state at such a time. [Pro- 
Ion ged applause.] 
78483—11776 

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